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The way it feels to roll

Moss off a stone wall

In the fingers

Holding a scream in the palm

The pad of moss

It did hurt

I’m being dramatic

But it did hurt

To remove a hug from its curvature

To take as my own

My own mossy pad

Screaming greens

Elder greenery

Unhugging its

Thinking of the crotch

Of a tree and of rocks in a wall

Crevice and uncovered

Riding on jealous palm

To some small planet

It’s a jealous planet

Home now and burning